


Cats and Mice and the games they play

by Lieju



Series: mobster au [1]
Category: Gaston (Bande Dessinée), Spirou et Fantasio, Tintin (Comics)
Genre: M/M, Mobsters, also zanta is a cat person, cat people - Freeform, everyone is more or less a villain, zanfan but they're not related in this au
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-09-11
Updated: 2016-09-11
Packaged: 2018-08-14 12:18:49
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,515
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8013469
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Lieju/pseuds/Lieju
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Mobster AU and also Zantafio is a cat person.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Cats and Mice and the games they play

 

 

The _Spirou_ nightclub was a perfectly legitimate business.

 

That was all you really needed to know, and everyone in that part of the city knew what to say about it when asked: "I want nothing to do with that. But they're a perfectly legitimate business."

 

Those people, who either due to bad luck or lack of sense got involved with them in a more personal capacity could have told you that while it was legally owned by a mysterious young man sometimes referred to as the Bloodred Bellboy, it was Mr Fantasio who called the shots.

 

Mr Fantasio, who was rumored to have his hand in every bit of illegal business this side of river. And in some on the turf of the Tintin-gang, which occasionally resulted in bloody gangwars the police did their best to ignore.

 

Usually the blond could be found in a private room on the nightclub.

That's where all kinds of deals were made, the kinds of deals you were better of not knowing about too much.

 

Fantasio nodded in greeting. "Seccotine."

 

"Sophie," the blonde woman corrected her.

 

"I don't care what you're calling yourself today," Fantasio told her. She had more names than that, he was sure, and even more roles to play.

 

Today she had chosen a low-cut red cocktail dress and high heels.

The kind of outfit that almost made you forget she could appear as a young boy, or a secretary or a business woman, if the fancy took her.

 

She sat down, showing off her legs.

Well, if she thought that would help her case, she was wrong.

 

"What do you want?"

 

She took a long drag of her cigarette, in no hurry to answer.

"Your dreary little joint could use someone to draw in crowds. I hear your exotic little songbird took off."

 

"Ororea had to take a leave of absence."

 

"Hire me."

 

"Well, I appreciate you going straight into the point."

He didn't ask if she had been somehow involved in Ororea leaving for a family emergency, or if this was a coincidence.

 

She was, of course, up to something.

But there was a certain respect between her and Fantasio, both knew just how far the other could be trusted, and managed to take advantage of each other in a way that was almost co-operation.

 

And Fantasio preferred to keep her where he could see her.

 

Besides, singing was one of her talents, and she did draw the crowd.

 

"You're hired."

 

* * *

 

 

It was just a coincidence, that Fantasio happened to be at the underground docks that night.

 

But he had a habit of making surprise rounds, and that was how he happened upon the dark sleek form perusing the boxes unloaded from the smuggling route.

 

He slammed the only door shut and drew his pistol.

"Make one wrong move and I'll shoot you."

 

It was difficult to make out any details due to the lack of lighting.

But there was something odd about the figure.

 

It had frozen for a moment, but slowly, and deliberately, it straightened out and glanced at him.

 

And its eyes flashed like a demon's.

 

Without taking his eyes off of the intruder, Fantasio moved to the light-switch.

 

And as the light revealed the dark figure, he could just stare.

It was a man, about his age or a bit older, dressed in all black, with a well-maintained pencil mustache.

 

But it was the black cat-ears and the slowly swishing tail that made Fantasio wonder if he had accidentally inhaled some of the special delivery from 'The Count' again.

 

But when the figure took a step towards him, he cocked his gun.

"Are you looking for a new hole or two? I told you to freeze."

 

The man stopped few steps from him, lifting his hands halfway up, in a mocking gesture of surrender.

 

Fantasio grabbed him, and pushed him against the wall.

"What are you?"

 

The man let out a purr-like rumble.

"Kinky, aren't you?"

 

Fantasio twisted his arm, which got a slight pained gasp.

 

"Fine, fine, I'll play. My name is Zantafio. Zanta to my friends."

 

"How did you get in?"

 

Fantasio tensed when the other form pushed against him.

"I'll go where I wish."

 

And then, when he was distracted, Zantafio twisted around with cat-like agility, kicked the gun away, and before the blond had time to react he found himself laying on his back, his wrist held down, the black form looming above him.

 

He bent down, and whispered "And I take what I wish," his breath hot on Fantasio's cheek.

 

And then Fantasio found his mouth invaded by a rough tongue.

He gasped in surprise, letting him in even more.

 

Fantasio pushed against his tongue with his own, pushing him away and continuing into the foreign mouth.

And suddenly his hands were no longer restrained, the intruder's hands busy with exploring his body, slipping under his shirt.

He knew he should have used this opportunity to push him away, but he used his now free hands to take hold of the surprisingly soft hair and pull, which got a sound somewhere between a moan and a purr.

 

But when Zantafio's hands found their way to the zipper of his pants Fantasio had enough.

If this intruder thought he'd just lay there _under_ him, he had no idea who he was dealing with.

 

So he kicked, sending the cat stumbling back.

 

"You better have nine lives," Fantasio told him, "because you breaking in here cost you one life. And that cost you another."

 

Zantafio stood up like that was what he had been planning to do all this time, and smirked.

"You'd need to catch me first." He pulled two little bags from his pocket.

 

Two bags that Fantasio recognized as his property, and a part of the jewelry delivery that had just arrived yesterday.

 

One of the bags was thrown, breaking the lamp, and in the darkness the cat burglar disappeared, taking the other bag with him.

 

Leaving the gang boss frustrated, in more ways than one.

* * *

 

 

"Fantasio."

 

The blond glanced at the accountant. "What?"

 

"The books don't match."

 

"Of course they don't." Fantasio pointed out. "That's what you're paid for."

 

Prunelle shook his head. "No, I'm talking about the _actual_ records. There's something wrong. A shipment of diamonds is missing."

 

"So? We never got it."

 

"No. They were all here when the cargo came. And now they aren't. Someone here helped themselves."

 

"I'll deal with it."

 

Prunelle looked suspicious. "Do you know something about this?"

 

"No. But don't stress over it, leave it to me." Fantasio grinned. "How's Gaston?"

 

"The errand boy? How should I know?"

 

"Well, he works under you. In more ways than one, I hear."

 

"None of your business!"

 

"Mostly not. Just try to keep the noise down while in the office, people have been complaining."

Not actually true, and all that had been a shot in the dark, based on a guess.

 

But Prunelle's expression made Fantasio certain.

 

Well, if he was fool enough to mix business and pleasure, Fantasio wasn't about to stop him. All it did was make him easier to manipulate.

 

 _He_ wasn't going to fall into the same trap, however.

 

* * *

 

 

But in the following weeks, more and more things went missing. Diamonds and other precious stones mostly. But how was he getting in? Did he have an accomplice?

 

And now there was something else that had caught his attention.

 

"Gaston?"

The errand boy lifted his head. "Mmhuh?"

 

"I saw you talking to our new singer."

 

The younger man nodded. "Yeah, she's nice."

 

"What did you talk about?"

 

"Cats."

 

"What!?"

 

Gaston smiled. "Yeah, she likes cats."

 

So, _she_ was in cahoots with their mysterious cat-burglar.

 

No, if she had been asking about him it was more likely she was trying to track him down as well.

 

Interesting.

 

Fantasio hadn't become the most feared and influential mob boss this side of the river with raw power and intimidation alone.

He knew how to spot little conflicts like this, and how to feed them or crush them, making others do his work for them, sitting at the center of the web like a giant spider.

 

So, what to do with this information?

 

The cat would need to be punished for daring to challenge him, for stealing from him.

 

But on the other hand he wasn't sure what game Seccotine was playing. Although if he was to guess, she was most likely after information of some kind.

 

She dealt in knowledge, information, blackmail, industrial espionage.

 

But she did occasionally take other kinds of jobs, and it wasn't out of the question she'd be tracking him for someone else he had angered.

 

He needed more information.

 

* * *

 

 

But as days went by and more and more expensive things went missing, it was looking like he couldn't keep this under wraps anymore.

 

Fantasio would have preferred to take care of it on his own, but he wasn't making any headway. How did you go on about tracking down a cat?

 

Of course, why hadn't he thought of it before?

 

"So, I hear you like cats."

 

Gaston lifted his eyes from the package he was wrapping. "Mmhuh? Yeah. He's here somewhere."

 

"Who?" Fantasio asked.

 

"My cat."

 

So, he was referring to the actual cat he kept at the club, or rather the backrooms and offices.

 

"He just wanders around here?"

 

"Yeah, I guess he's been a bit shy lately."

 

"Maybe there's another cat around?" Fantasio suggested.

 

"Maybe?"

 

"Aren't you worried he will get lost?"

 

"No, and cats need freedom anyway."

 

"Freedom? Where exactly does your cat go?"

 

"Around, mostly in the offices. And I don't know what Prunelle has been complaining about, he wouldn't even want to go to the club-side, he doesn't like the noise. He just walks around the offices, sometimes the inner yard."

 

"The inner yard? How does he get there?"

 

"Phuh, obviously I leave a window open."

 

"What!?"

 

Gaston looked at him like it was obvious. "Cats need their freedom. And it's not like anyone can get in that way, it's way too high and small for a human."

 

Fantasio stared at him.

He was fairly certain the boy was living in somewhere in his own world...

 

He wondered if he should have punished him, but he was on a good mood.

 

Fantasio grinned.

 

At the very least, he now knew how to get the little thief, and he had Gaston to thank for it.

 

* * *

 

 

It took two nights of watching the open window before the trap went off.

 

Fantasio was aware it wasn't the smartest way to go about it, but he had kept quiet about this, and lay in wait behind one the large cargo boxes alone, with just his trusty pistol at his side.

 

But this way he was keeping this whole affair secret. He wasn't too keen on it becoming public knowledge that a lone burglar had managed to go as he pleased on his property.

 

And maybe it was _slightly_ personal.

 

He was, however, starting to wonder if this was futile, just when the small window was pushed fully open.

 

Fantasio lay in wait, patient and still like a statue.

 

The dark shadow dropped down on the container in front of the window. He must have been using the same route several times, and grown overconfident.

 

But this time, as he dropped down, the box collapsed under his weight, the separated sides giving in.

 

However, the intruder fell down on all fours, cat-like and unharmed.

 

But Fantasio was ready for that, and tackled him to the ground, pinning him down and pushing the barrel of his gun against his temple for emphasis.

"I guess you really must be looking for a way to get rid of some extra lives, hm?"

 

The dark-haired man grinned, looking far too smug for someone caught red-handed and pinned under an angry mob boss. "Hmmm, missed me?"

 

Not that the position _was_ completely uncomfortable for the blond.

 

Something the feline was quick to notice.

He let out a purring sound, bucking his hips against the other man's. "Yes, I'd say you did."

 

Fantasio bent forward, and pushed the gun harder against his skull.

"You are in no position to play games."

 

But this position was giving him all kinds of ideas-

 

His thoughts were interrupted by a voice coming behind him. "Then let's even the odds."

 

Fantasio didn't turn to look. "Seccotine. Stay out of this."

 

"Hm, sorry, can't do that."

 

Fantasio's attention was focused on Zantafio. There had been a look of genuine surprise on his face, gone as quickly as it had appeared.

 

And Seccotine's next words confirmed what he suspected. "Mr Zantafio, I take it? I have a proposition for you." So, they didn't know each other.

 

Fantasio heard the tell-tale sound of a gun clicking behind him.

 

"Fanta, dear, I'd rather not shoot you. Be a good boy and get off the kitty."

 

Fantasio obeyed. He had been careless.

He stood up and turned to face the woman who was dressing like a young boy tonight.

 

But still, her doing something like this must have meant she was desperate. For what? Maybe to talk to Zantafio before he did?

 

But she knew what this kind of open defiance meant, Fantasio didn't have to remind her that next time they'd meet he'd be far less benign towards her.

 

So she disappeared from the door, the cat following her, no words exchanged between the two blondes.

 

The blackhaired man, however, couldn't resist.

"See you around."

 

* * *

 

 

Fantasio stepped into his bedroom.

 

And found the feline laying on his bed.

 

"Finally. I was about to get bored and leave. Do you never sleep?" He noticed the glance towards the dresser. "I took the liberty of tossing your peashooter out the window."

 

"So, I guess this answers my question. You really are suicidal."

 

Zantafio stood up and walked to him. "I have no intention of dying any time soon." He ran his finger over Fantasio's chest. "But if there's no risk, where the fun?"

 

Fantasio caught his wrist. "So, I take it you and Seccotine didn't come to an agreement?"

 

Zantafio grinned. "Maybe, maybe not. But I'm not one to tie myself to anyone, to have such useless things as loyalties. Besides-"

 

He ground against Fantasio. "I'm not here for business."

 

He was pushed on the bed, and Fantasio pinned him down, eager to continue where they had left off last time.

 

To Fantasio's delight this got a surprised undignified meow from the other man before he regained his composure.

 

But Zantafio's grin was soon back. "Hmm, something tells me business isn't on top of your mind either right now."

 

It wasn't.

 

He wasn't looking for romance, or anything like that.

 

And he'd have to remember to be more careful. The mistake that had led to Seccotine getting the drop on him had been inexcusable.

 

But this was fine.

 

He knew just how far he could trust Zantafio, after all.

 

Not even as far as he could throw him.

 

But good for him then neither of them was looking for trust.

 

 

 

 


End file.
